


Sweets

by forthosebelow



Series: Phil and Clint's New Year's Eve [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Anal Sex, Brownies, Dessert & Sweets, Dick Clark, Dick Clark's New Year's Eve Special, Domestic, M/M, New Year's Eve, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 20:24:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forthosebelow/pseuds/forthosebelow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the happier version of As Sweet as Pain in witch Coulson is alive. yay</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweets

**Author's Note:**

> I am very sorry, I know longer have spell check on my computer and so probably half the words are spelled wrong. Again, I am sorry.

“Shit!” Clint Barton sucked on his burned finger. He was trying to make carmel sauce to go with the brownies he would be making later. "You alright, love?" Phil called from his spot on the couch where he was watching Dick Clarck's New Year Eve's speacial. Clint didn't think the question deserved an answer so he went right back to working. The kitchen was a mess but finally Clint got the carmel sauce the way he wanted it to be. Coulson wandered lazily into the kitchen, comminting about how he would not, definatly not, be the one who would clean up the mess later. "Bastard." Clint muttered just loud enough for Coulson to hear him.  
Clint jerked slightly when fingers trailed down his spine and toyed with the strings of his apron. "You really should wear a shirt under an apron," Phil said reproachfully before placing a kiss at the base of Clint's neck. "Don't see you complaning much, sir" Coulson laughed and leaned back against the counter as Clint mixed the wet ingrediants into the dry, homemade brownies would always be better then what came in the box, and both Clint and Coulson would swear the Clint's were the best brownies in the whole damn world. After the batter was the consistancy he wanted it to be, Clint scooped up a little bit of the mixture onto the fingertips of his left hand and turing quickly, he smeared the dark brown goop onto his boyfriends face.  
Phil spluttered, toungue popping out from between his lips to catch some stray drops of the batter. He stilled though as he felt another toungue on his face. "Clint..." he begane to warn, not even sure what the warning was for. Phil squeazed his eyes shut and enjoyed the warmth that was spreading from his face to the rest of his body. Clint brought his non-batter coverred hand up to Phil's chest to steady himself as he licked up the sweet mixture. Underneath Phil's thin tshirt he felt the scar. The thick bunching of skin close, so close, to Phil's heart. Clint quickly cleaned the last bit of batter of the tip of the other man's nose and then retreated. "Do you feel ok?" Clint tried not to sound like he was panicking even though he really was. "I'm fine, Clint. I promise." Clint nodded but turned quickly to retrieve a pan for the brownies. Nothing had really been the same since Loki. Just the name brought back awful memories. Awful feelings.   
It had been months since Coulson had come home from the hospital and Clint was still scared of that scar. He was used to scars, had too many of his own to count and had traced the dozens of Phil's with his tounge, but those were stupid, small, not his fault, that one was. It really was no matter how many times Phil, Natasha, Fury, or anybody else told him it wasn't. It was Loki, it was his fault, Clint had nothing to do with it. He couldn't believe that though, he could, in his broken memories, remember not caring about Coulson when he was under Loki's control. He loved this man and he didn't think that mind control was a good enough reason for that to stop.   
"Clint, honey, please don't shut me out tonight." Clint forced himself to turn and smile, ease the tension in his forehead. Phil wanted all of their new year's tradition to continue, the sweets, the fireworks and the sex. In the nine months since the Battle of New York they hadn't had actual sex, messy handjobs and Clint had sucked Phil off more then once but never the real thing. Clint knew Coulson was getting scared that it was his fault. It wasn't. It was Clint's and he knew it. He was scared of hurting Phil more, of tireing him out to the point of injury. If Fury still hadn't cleared him for field duty then how was he supposed to have sex? But for now Clint pushed those thoughts out of his head. It was New Years, a time for new beginings, and damn it all, he wanted to have sex. To feel Phil pushing into him, to feel his reasuring breath on the back of his neck. It had been so long. Since the night before the aperance of Loki, actually. "Now why would I do a silly thing like that?" Clint asked then gave Phil a quick kiss, "Now go watch your show."  
Not too long later both of them were tucked under a shared afgan on the couch, the pan of brownies resting between them. The ball in Time Square was dropping on the television but Clint could not focus with Phil running his hand up and down his thigh, always just missing where he wanted to be touched the most. He hadn't realized his eyes were closed until the firworks begane and Phil was asking for his first kiss of the New Year. As always after the kiss, Coulson whispered quietly in Clint's ear, "You're the best treat I've had all night." That saying started out as a joke, nine years ago at a SHEILD New Year's Eve party. The day before Phil had shyly asked Clint to go with him and most of the night had been very awkward. But then when it was time for the midnight kiss Clint had kissed the other man. It was rather clear in Phil's memory about Clint tasting like the cake and icecream he'd been eating and in his slightly drunk and definatly shocked state he had blurted out that Clint tasted better then everything else he'd had that night. That was the first date of many.  
The pair went back to watching the fireworks with Clint now curled up on Phil's shoulder. Phil couldn't wait any longer with the smell of Barton so close and it being so long, he did not care about fireworks or the mess in the kitchen anymore. Clint barley had time to suck in one final breath of air before Phil's lips were on his own, trying to take as much as was possible. Phil sucked and niped and pulled the love of his life onto his lap, enjoying the tiny whines Clint was making. "Come on," Phil growled, "We're going to the bedroom."  
Clint didn't need to be told twice and was draged with very little resistence off towards their bed. He shucked off his pants and boxers, having left the apron in the kitchen, he needed to have the least amount of cloths on as possible. Phil seemed to agree, he had also stripped. In what seemed like no time at all, Phil had opened up the younger man and was reducing the highly trained assasin to a blubbering mess, begging for Coulson's cock. Coulson gave him what he wanted and pressed in, taking Clint from behind like they both loved. They were both sort of ashamed by short a time the whole thing lasted, it had been so long and they both thought the other was the most gorgous, magical person ever they only lasted for a few minutes.  
After they had cleaned themselves up Clint snuggled up against Phil, while Coulson whispered nonsense into his hair. This New Year's Eve had been perfect. Phil was here. He was alive. Alive, alive, alive. There would be a good morning kiss and pancakes when he woke up. And what more could Clint ask for?


End file.
